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Ivy Ivy Ivy

Ivy will never forgive me and why should she? That girl’s a looker, a definite work of art. And yet every time we get together I can’t help but drag her down to my level. I cradle her adorable curves against my body and I try hard to perform. Sigh… It goes wrong.

Johnny introduced us a few years ago. That guy’s one hell of a matchmaker. But I wonder if he ever holds his head in his hands, mortified, when he comes across stray echoes of the damage he’s done?

Like with Ivy. That girl could’ve been a wow, had her pick from the very best; seen the bright lights and led fashions. All that potential for grace and invention that lay coiled up inside her, humming with anticipation at its eventual, inevitable, ecstatic release…

Instead, when my trembling hands clutch her close, fingers blistered and stumbling with schoolboyish eagerness, I can only eke out the worst version of Bigmouth Strikes Again in history.

Have you ever named an inanimate object? (Your car? Your laptop? The volleyball that kept you company while you were stranded in the ocean?) Share the story of at least one object with which you’re on a first-name basis.

6 thoughts on “Ivy Ivy Ivy”

The master of the surprise ending triumphs again 🙂
Really had no idea that you weren’t speaking of a woman until you mentioned the word “invention”. Your writing never disappoints, that’s for sure.
Plus – great memories with The Smiths. 😀

Ah well you weren’t aware of the prompt on this occasion, so it was that much easier to string you along 😉 I’ve always viewed musical instruments as works of abstract art, really, even before they’re played. Meanwhile, actually playing them is, by definition, a sensual experience.

And yes, I’ve been in a very Smiths mood for the last week or so. There’s some amazing live footage on Youtube and I’ve been indulging myself. I think the musical interludes in your posts made me want to add some clips to my own, lately 😀

Plus I do play a pretty dismal version of Bigmouth 😦 So, this was kind of like my first confessional blog post, I suppose – in a week or so I’ll probably be blogging nothing but Misery Porn… hey, people love that stuff, right?!

In England I think music teaching has actually improved. I remember at my junior school very few people were offered music tuition; my brother was one of the few, because he was found to have perfect pitch. His reward for this was an invitation to attend violin lessons, for which the school provided a violin – with only two strings…

In the States, visual art and music are being cut from the curriculum in places. Makes me want to scream every time the politicians start to look at our schools — getting to be more and more of a lowest-common-denominator, test-based, job-training exercise as time goes by. 😦

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I was born in Wensleydale, England, and studied Privilege at Cambridge University. I am the author of a dark fantasy novel called Feline Alchemy. I live in Milton Keynes with two cats and am the reigning British MouseBall champion.
Ambitions -
1) Take ownership of this messed-up world.
2) Resurrect the Fearless Defenders.
Hobbies -
I like that thing where twenty-two cretins kick a bit of dead cow around a patch of grass.